A Letter to My Centenarian Self: A Century of Reflections”

“A Letter to My Centenarian Self: A Century of Reflections”

Dear Prashant,

If this letter reaches you, it means you have defied time, lived through an entire century, and have gathered wisdom that few are privileged to possess. What a journey it must have been—of triumphs and tribulations, of laughter and tears, of love and loss, all woven into the rich tapestry of your existence.

As I write to you from my sixties, I wonder—do you still have that boundless energy that once defied stereotypes? Have you managed to retain the spark that refused to be dimmed by the world’s perceptions of age? I hope you still cycle, still sing your favourite hymns and bhajans, still engage in deep philosophical discourses, and, most importantly, still write.

Do you remember the days when you applied for assignments, only to be met with scepticism about your age? Did the world eventually recognise that experience is not a burden but a beacon? I hope that by now, your wisdom has found its due place, that your words have left an indelible mark on education, literature, and philosophy.

What of your Grand children? The little ones who once clung to your hand—do they now sit by your side as  grown people, sharing stories of their own adventures? Have they inherited your love for music, your passion for knowledge, and your unwavering resilience? If they ever read this letter, tell them that their grandfather always believed in the power of dreams, that no mountain is too high, and that kindness is the greatest legacy one can leave behind.

And what of Agnes? The woman who walked beside you through life’s storms and sunshine—how has time treated both of you? I hope your love story has only deepened, that she still reads to you in the evenings, and that her books continue to inspire generations.

A century of life must have given you perspectives that I cannot yet fathom. Have you finally understood the mysteries of the universe that once intrigued you as a student of physics? Have you unraveled the divine melodies that echoed in your heart whenever you played the harmonium? More importantly, have you found the answers to the questions that haunted your younger self?

I do not know what the world looks like in your time. Is it a place of peace, or has humanity still not learned from its past? Have the stars remained your silent companions on sleepless nights? Does the monsoon still bring the same fragrance of nostalgia that it did in my youth?

Above all, dear Prashant, I hope you have lived a life that you are proud of. I hope you have forgiven those who wronged you, embraced those who loved you, and left behind a legacy that echoes beyond time. If this letter finds you weary, let it remind you of the fire that once burned bright within you. And if, by some miracle, you can send a word back through time, let me know—was it all worth it?

With admiration and hope,
Your 64-year-old self